My greedy ex took everything and I'm a bitter wreck

My 66th birthday is approaching and I feel I want it to be my last. It all began when I was 15 and met Trevor. My father was difficult and domineering, consequently I married Trevor just after my 17th birthday.

We both became social workers and had the usual ups and downs, but our family life with four children was loving and close. In 2003, on our 40th anniversary, we renewed our wedding vows on a Tobago beach.

In 2004, I had cancer, and during this time Trevor was the most devoted, caring partner I could have wished for. I retired in 2006, looking forward to spending time with our grandchildren.

'I've tried counselling and I was told I had a right to feel bitter, but it's not a positive emotion to carry around'

In 2006, Trevor became a senior lecturer. In 2007, he changed — saying the job was difficult.

He started going to conferences, couldn’t give details, would turn off his mobile at night. You guessed right — an affair with one of his students. At the time she was 28, he was 62. She’d been married twice and had three children by different fathers — the children are the same ages as three of our grandchildren.

Confronted by me, he ran out of the door. Afterwards, he was never allowed (by her) to see me to discuss our marriage of 44 years. Within two weeks of me finding out, he moved her to live close to our home. I felt rejected, humiliated and used.

The family were in shock, except my eldest daughter, who knew about the affair and had already formed a relationship with my replacement. He finally ended our marriage by text.

Our home had to be sold; I couldn’t believe his nastiness and greed. I had to return to work because he was supporting her. He wanted everything from the house: I even received a list of items in her writing.

Two of my daughters and my son have refused to have anything to do with my replacement. I was accused of influencing them, but they’re all over 30.

I struggled to keep a relationship with my eldest, but couldn’t bear knowing she was socialising and holidaying with them, so cut contact, though it broke my heart.

I felt like ending my life, so kept a photo of my grandchildren with me to remind me that I was loved and to hurt them would be unforgiveable.

Now I have a new life — closer to three of my children than ever. My new partner loves me, but I cannot love back. My heart is frozen.

I’ve tried counselling (ironically, my ex used to be a counsellor) and I was told I had a right to feel bitter, but it’s not a positive emotion to carry around.

I see my replacement driving what used to be my car, going to my hairdresser, working at the same job I had with some of my old friends, who feel uncomfortable.

I want to give myself a good shake, tell myself I’m lucky to have someone who loves me, but I feel stuck.

JANET

Some of you might remember I discussed a similar issue on Woman’s Hour a few weeks ago, and then wrote about it in the Mail.

The question was what to do on the day your ex remarries, but the problem of coping with bitterness was at the core.

A listener/reader called Nicole wrote: ‘I would love to know how you stay so positive.

‘I’ve been separated nine years, and my parents separated 35 years ago, and I still feel anger . . .’ She makes it clear that her ongoing anger is about both splits. But I want her (and everyone) to know that when I talk about staying positive, not being bitter after divorce, I’m certainly not trying to pretend it’s at all easy.

On the contrary, I believe it’s the struggle that makes the eventual victory over bitterness all the more worthwhile.

When I read your letter, I found myself wondering yet again how people can be so cruel, so vile, to someone they have loved, conceived children with and shared a whole life. He ‘ran out the door’, did he? Coward.

The part of me that wears horns and a devil’s tail is muttering that it would have served him right to run straight under a bus.

Yes, indeed, I understand righteous anger. But I can’t help wondering why (with three supportive adult children) you gave in so easily over the property. A handwritten request from his woman listing things she wanted? That should have gone straight in the bin.

Because you make a point of telling me your father was so controlling that you escaped from him into marriage, I’m wondering if Trevor also had a tendency to be the dominant partner and cowed you into giving into his demands, even though you were the wronged one.

I’m also wondering if that knowledge is feeding your bitterness and (rightful) sense of deep injustice.

I can’t think that anyone reading your story (and, of course, there’s more detail I had to cut) wouldn’t be on your side — except perhaps men who have behaved in the same way, infatuated with the stereotypical younger model.

Your oldest daughter’s extraordinary disloyalty shocks me and I can only assume she was always ‘Daddy’s girl’.

But all that said — and held out to you with virtual, comforting, sisterly hugs — I’m reminding you that the new task is to take control of your own future, as perhaps you’ve never done before. You’ve tried counselling, but if these black, almost-suicide moods continue, you really should go back.

You say you can’t afford to move house, but perhaps your new partner and you could revisit that one, because it would obviously be better for you. But, in any case, the fact that this new man loves you shows what kind of person you are.

You have to learn to love yourself again and not let your ex and his arrogant partner cheat you of your self-esteem. Why should they, when you are loved by so many people?

Close your eyes, focus on that and in your imagination lift one foot and make a step. Pretend the other foot is still in the mud, and carefully pull it out. Two steps . . . and there will be more. Tell yourself you are not stuck, that this will pass and that your life is your own.

Can a useless son ever be a good father?

DEAR BEL

I’m in such a quandary. My son’s 20 and has been hard work since 15 — expelled, in trouble with police, drinking to excess, and so on.

When he was 18 his girlfriend became pregnant. I now have a beautiful one-year-old granddaughter. He’s not with the girlfriend any more and she refuses to see him, so I go and pick up my granddaughter when he has days off.

He’s confessed to me that he has been taking drugs and is very remorseful and I’m helping all I can, but just feel completely exasperated.

'Whenever I pick [my granddaughter] up, the mother goes on about my son and most of her criticisms of him are justified.' (Posed by models)

Also, when baby does come to visit us, my son is useless and I end up doing everything and find it exhausting. I asked him how he felt about the baby and he said he finds it upsetting and doesn’t really know what to do with her.

Now, heartbreaking as it is, I wonder if the right thing would be to stop contact — at least for now.

Whenever I pick baby up, the mother goes on about my son and most of her criticisms of him are justified — but he’s my son and I don’t want to hear it.

What do I do? Is it best to stop contact or will we both really regret it in time to come?

I just don’t know. My husband passed away in January and I just feel exhausted with all my son’s problems.

BRENDA

My post-holiday postbag contained many problems concerning desperate, disappointed parents and irresponsible offspring. I picked yours as the shortest (some are pages long), but in most cases my gut calls for tough love.

The mum who continues to bail out her dishonest, feckless daughter will go on enduring this unacceptable behaviour, unless she forces the daughter to face consequences — even if that means a fraud charge.

The mum whose work-shy son exploits her will have a nervous breakdown unless she stands up and refuses to pay any more of his debts.

Another mother, C, asks: ‘How do I deal with the grief I feel for the loss of the son I thought I’d brought into this world? Where did he go?’

It’s a heartbreaking question — but unanswerable. Therefore we have to face the future with practical solutions.

In your case, I feel so sorry for you, coping alone when grief for your husband must still be fresh. But I’d be even sorrier if this current mood caused you to end contact with your granddaughter, because I’m sure you’d regret it.

The innocent child has a right to know her father and grandmother, so you must find new strength to manage the situation. It seems to me that two things have to happen.

Next time you go to collect the baby, ask if you can come in for a cup of tea and a chat. Take a small bunch of flowers. Tell the mother you understand how she feels, but that abusing your son is no way forward, especially when the little girl becomes older.

The habit has to be broken. Tell her you’ll do all you can to help, that she’ll need babysitting, that you’ll be there for her, but only if she stops this talk.

Suggest that now she’s a mum she starts to understand the desperate love and loyalty mums feel — especially if her child grows up to give her grief. That might make her think.

Back home, your son has to take charge of his daughter. Bluntly, he’s being allowed to be ‘useless’ and it must stop. I trust he changes nappies and gives feeds? If not, why not?

Get him to Google ‘Games to play with one-year-olds’ and read through some of the excellent websites with creative suggestions. Each time the baby comes, he must make a list of five things he will do to stimulate her.

This isn’t negotiable. Then, when she responds to him, he’ll be pleased . . . and you might murmur gently, one day, that it would be sad if she grew up to take drugs, wouldn’t it? Ask how he’d feel about that.

Talk to him about building a different future and making his daughter proud. He needs to hear these positive messages to help him change and grow into a man.

I know how tired you are, but try to be calm and strong and do as I suggest.

And finally... A holiday to nourish the soul

At last we took a proper holiday. Three rainy days in Ludlow in May didn’t quite do it, so my husband checked the destinations from Bristol airport, picked Bodrum in Turkey, booked the best hotel available and presented it as a fait accompli.

Care of our little dog Bonnie would be shared between my daughter and parents; all I had to do was pack summer clothes.

Bel reads all letters, but regrets she cannot enter into personal correspondence.

Just five days in the wonderful Marmara hotel (expensive, yes, but worth it) has made me feel like a new woman. This writer was in need of peace and nurture, as well as sun.

But the holiday also provided me with one of those epiphanies that feed the soul. We took a trip to Ephesus, the famous ruined city which — cradle of Greek, Roman, Byzantine, Christian and Turkish culture — introduces you to 3,000 years of history.

We love looking at carvings, mosaics and wall decorations, walking on the stones of ancient streets, and imagining all those who passed that way in centuries long gone.

The crowds proved that many others share that interest. In the heat, people of all ages and all nationalities surged through the magnificent archaeological site.

As our guide was explaining how women would shop in those colonnades, and men would sit over here to discuss business, and how they loved the cooling sound of water, I glanced at people and transported them back in time.

That young pair, so clearly in love. A man proud of the small son on his shoulders. That married couple looking fed up with each other. The woman cradling her baby with melting tenderness.

The ancients shared marriage problems and money worries, just like the people who write to me. In the Ephesus museum we saw bronze mirrors, cosmetic boxes and jewellery, and I could easily identify with the women who used them.

Ephesus’s philosopher Heraclitus said, ‘No man ever steps in the same river twice,’ meaning the universe is always changing. That may be true — but don’t some things stay essentially the same?